


Dinner Guest

by zebraljb



Category: Anderson Cooper - Fandom, NSYNC
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 11:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance attends a dinner party at Anderson's house as the guest of one of Anderson's acquaintances.  It becomes a night they won't forget.</p><p>Let's call this pairing Andersance Booper. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lance Bass sniffed and rolled his head out from under the pillow. “Mmph?”

“Good morning, gorgeous.” 

Lance heard a tray click down onto the nightstand. He sniffed again. “Zat…hazelnut?”

“Yep. It’s that stuff I get down at Orli’s that you like so much.”

Lance forced his eyes open and glanced at the clock. Ten am. Only coffee from one of the best independent coffeehouses in the city could waken him at this time and make him remotely happy about it. He pushed himself up, rubbing at his eyes. “Wow. Hazelnut coffee AND blueberry pancakes?”

“I know this is one of your carb months, so I took the liberty.” The young brunette picked up the tray and carefully placed it across Lance’s lap. “With some of the real maple syrup I got the last time I was home in Vermont.”

“Christ, Cal…are you trying to kill me?” Lance picked up the mug and inhaled. “Oh my GOD.”

“It’s worth it just to hear you moan in your hot morning porn voice,” Cal said with a grin. He sat by Lance’s feet, folding his long legs under him. “Dig in. I ate downstairs.”

Lance cut his pancakes and poured a generous amount of syrup on top. “While I know my sexual prowess is legendary, to what do I owe this?”

“Do I need a reason?” Cal asked. “I had a good time last night. I always have a good time with you.”

“Right.” Lance put down his fork and sighed. “Look, Cal…I do really like you. You’re hot and fun and damn good in bed. But I thought we decided we’re not looking for more than a good time right now.”

“That’s correct.” Cal laughed, his dark brown eyes sparkling. “Jesus, Lance, relax. I’m not propositioning you to be my boyfriend or anything. I need a favor.”

“Oh,” Lance said, surprised at how relieved he was. While he enjoyed any time he spent with Cal, a sports writer he’d met the year before, he really didn’t see Cal as someone he could be with long term. “What do you need?”

“Money. About six hundred thousand, if you’ve got it,” Cal said with a straight face. Lance dropped his fork. “There are some guys after me, Lance. I made some bets, and…” Cal choked, then started laughing. Lance rolled his eyes and picked up his fork. “Seriously, though…I have this dinner party thing I can’t get out of, and I need a date.”

“Really?” Lance’s eyes grew wide. While Cal wasn’t obviously out, most of the people in his business knew that he was gay. “Is this some sports thing?”

“No. I haven’t quite gotten brave enough to bring a date to one of those,” Cal said. “It’s sorta like a work thing, though. More of a journalism thing than a sports thing.”

“Where’s the dinner?”

“New York,” Cal said. “In three weeks.”

“I think I’m free,” Lance said, his fingers itching for his Smartphone. “Who’s the host? Anyone I know?”

“I believe so, at least by name,” Cal said. “It’s Anderson Cooper.”

“Are you kidding me?” Lance gasped. “You could have skipped breakfast altogether, and just said that. Of course I’ll go! A dinner party at his place will be incredible.”

“Are you sure you’re not just interested in the host himself and not the party?” Cal asked slyly.

Lance snorted. “He’s Anderson Cooper, Cal. Please. Also, he’s like fifty years older than I am. You know I like my boys young.”

“He’s in his forties, Lance. Not quite AARP material yet. He went prematurely grey. And I’m not that much younger than you are.”

“Young enough,” Lance said, eying up the long legs pouring down from the plaid boxers.

Cal smiled and picked up the tray. “Done with breakfast.” He set the tray on the ground and crawled up over Lance. “How about dessert?”

 

“I’m replacing the shrimp with scallops, Sir. The way they’ve been looking lately…” The woman shook her head. “You’d be sorry.”

“I trust you, Marlene.” Anderson Cooper handed the folder back with a smile. “Looks perfect.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cooper.” Marlene stood. “The usual staff will be here…two in the kitchen, one at the table.”

“This is casual, Marlene, so that’s great.” 

Marlene, an older woman with sparkling eyes, looked around the apartment. “Mr. Cooper, every time I come here to work for you, I think how much that gorgeous kitchen is wasted on you.”

Anderson laughed, blue eyes squinting. “I know. I DO know my way around…but when it comes time for actual dinner parties? I feel MUCH safer leaving everything in your capable hands.”

“Very well,” Marlene said with a sigh. “I’ll see myself out.”

“See you next week,” Anderson said. She nodded and smiled.

Once the front door closed, Anderson went to the kitchen in question and made himself a cup of tea. It was a brisk fall day, but he still took a book and his tea out onto the balcony. He’d had this New York apartment for ten years, and he could not help but admire his view every time he came outside. He flopped onto a chair and put his book down, cupping his tea in both hands. Anderson still wasn’t sure why he’d decided to have this dinner in the first place. Maybe because his best friend had threatened him.

“You and Benjamin split up two months ago, Anderson,” he’d said. “It’s time to move on. Get out and do something.” Anderson had quickly pointed out the recent trips he’d taken. “Not for WORK, you idiot. For fun. Have a party, throw a dinner, be SOCIAL.”

So Anderson was being social. A small dinner of eight to ten people from various vocational ways of life. Journalism. Theater. Business. It would be a very interesting night.

He sipped at his tea, wondering when he’d turned into the World’s Most Boring Famous Person.

 

“You’re in town and I am finding out from someone OTHER than you?”

Lance almost dropped his cell as the familiar voice screeched in his ear. “Hello, Joey. Good to hear from you.”

“What’s going on?”

“Last time I checked, I was a grown adult who didn’t need to give you an itinerary.” Lance looked in the mirror, running his fingers through his hair.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t a smartmouth asshole,” Joey retorted. 

“Then you haven’t checked recently.” Lance sighed. “It was sorta last minute,” he lied. “A friend needed a date to a thing, and here I am.”

“A date to a thing,” Joey repeated. “Fine. I’ll bite. Where?”

“Just a dinner,” Lance said evasively, wondering why in the world he was so nervous.

“Where?”

“Someone’s house.”

“WHO?” Joey demanded.

“Andersoncooper,” Lance mumbled.

“Who?”

“For God’s sake, Joey. Anderson Cooper.”

“Really?” Joey screeched again. 

“God, Joey, it’s not a big deal.” Lance’s calm tone covered the butterflies in his stomach.

“Oh, yes, it is. We’ve met a lot of famous people, Lance, but he’s like, respectable.”

“My friends are respectable,” Lance protested, and Joey snorted. “Anyway, yeah. It’s dinner. With Anderson Cooper. No big deal.”

“He’s on CNN, Lance.”

“He also has a crappy talk show.”

“You’re just mad no one offered YOU a talk show.”

“Joey, I have to go. Someone’s at the door,” Lance said as he heard a thumping. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“You better!” Joey yelled as Lance hung up.

“Well, don’t YOU look nice,” Cal said when Lance opened the door of his hotel room.

“So do you,” Lance said, giving Cal a quick peck on the cheek. “Let me just get some shoes on…” Lance said over his shoulder as he headed for his suitcase.

“Those pants do wonders for that hot ass of yours,” Cal commented as he watched Lance walk away.

Lance grinned. “And THAT’s why they’re my favorite pair.” He ran his hands over the black fabric. “When you don’t have height, it’s always nice to have ass.”

“And you do.” Cal checked himself in the dresser mirror. “We’re wasting this much sexy on Anderson Cooper.”

“True,” Lance admitted. “We’ll just have to bring it all back here later.”

“Definitely.” Cal kissed him. “Let’s roll, beautiful.”

 

“Good to see you, Richard,” Anderson said, shaking the man’s hand. “And Marie. Lovely to see you.” He kissed her cheek.

“Glad to see you out and about again, Anderson,” Richard said.

His wife rolled her eyes. “How are you doing?” Marie asked sympathetically.

“Better than ever,” Anderson promised. Someone knocked at the door. “Please help yourself to the bar. Excuse me.”

“Of course,” Marie said.

Anderson sighed as he went to answer the door. Part of him missed hanging out with friends, but part of him also missed going to war-torn areas of the world. Sometimes it felt safer in a warzone. He opened the door and smiled. “Cal. How are you?”

“Nice to see you again, Anderson. Thank you so much for inviting me.” 

Anderson had always liked Cal Stuart, a sports journalist he’d run into at a few conventions and meetings at CNN. He knew that Cal was what he would call a partially-closeted homosexual. Since Anderson absolutely understood that way of life, he tried to invite Cal to his home whenever possible. “Are you joking? I needed someone here who doesn’t expect the conversation to center on politics, war or religion,” Anderson replied, making a face. “Please, as soon as you can, start talking about sports. Anything but the Yankees, though; as you can imagine, it’s sore subject around here.”

“Understood,” Cal said, laughing. “Oh, Anderson, this is my friend, Lance Bass.”

Anderson turned to smile at Cal’s guest, and felt his knees shake ever so slightly. The man was a good ten years younger than he, with light brown hair, soft tan skin, and the most incredible green eyes Anderson had ever seen. “Lance. Nice to meet you.”

“The honor is ALL mine, Mr. Cooper,” Lance said, shaking Anderson’s hand.

Anderson’s knees quivered a bit again at the deep bass voice. “Please. Call me Anderson. The grey hair doesn’t make me a senior citizen.”

“Of course,” Lance said softly, blushing.

“Come on in and get a drink,” Anderson said, leading the way into the large living area. “Introduce yourselves around…we’re waiting on a few more people before we sit down.” Anderson clapped Cal on the back and headed for the kitchen to check on something.

Once in the kitchen, Anderson leaned against the counter and took a deep breath. “Mr. Cooper, are you all right?” Marlene asked anxiously.

“Yes. I’m fine. Just needed a quick breather.” Anderson pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped on the screen.


	2. Chapter 2

Two

 

“I am such a dumbass,” Lance growled in Cal’s ear as they headed for the bar. “Can we leave now?”

“You were fine,” Cal promised. “I’ll have a beer,” he told the man behind the makeshift bar. “Lance?”

“Whiskey on the rocks,” Lance said. “Double.”

“It’s okay, really,” Cal said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Whatever.” Lance watched Anderson leave the room. “He’s better looking in person, don’t you think?”

“I hadn’t really noticed. You forget, I’ve known him a while.”

“Right.” Lance nodded his thanks at the bartender and took his glass.

Cal introduced him to the few people he knew, and Lance joined him in conversation, then wandered off to look around the room. A few mahogany bookcases stood against the wall, but Lance was much more interested in the objet d’art and souvenirs around the room. There were some beautiful sculptures and knickknacks, and Lance stood for a long time reading a collage of newspaper articles about the World’s Fair Exhibitions held in New York.

“You’ve discovered my secret,” a voice said behind him, and Lance turned around. “I’ve been all around the world, covering things like earthquakes and mass murders and war…and I cover my walls with pictures of “The World of Tomorrow.” Most people wouldn’t expect it.”

Lance smiled at his host. “I don’t know about that. We’ve all seen you giggling on YouTube.”

Anderson groaned and rolled his eyes. “I will NEVER live that down.”

“Don’t feel bad,” Lance said with exaggerated sympathy. “Gerard Depardieu is enough to make anyone laugh.”

“Yes, well, I’m on CNN.” Anderson pronounced the letters in an official-sounding tone.

“Well, CNN needs to lighten up now and then,” Lance said. Anderson laughed and Lance tried not to notice how blue his eyes were.

“Looks like everyone’s here now,” Anderson said, sighing. “Time for dinner.”

“You don’t seem very happy about it,” Lance said, then wished he could take it back.

Anderson’s eyes grew stormy for a moment. “Doing my social duty,” was all he said, and he turned to gather everyone to the table.

 

There were nine people at dinner, including Anderson himself…a mix of authors, journalists, and even a B-list actress. Anderson was the odd man out, the only person without a guest. He sat at the head of the table, and as everyone filed to their seats, he was almost disappointed to notice that Cal’s friend was at the other end of the table, on his right. Anderson mentally shook himself. Apparently he hadn’t been laid in a long time, if he was eyeing up the practically jailbait date of another man. “Marlene,” he said, giving a slight nod. She nodded back and returned to the kitchen. Soon a man and a woman were walking around the table, ladling soup and asking about drink refills. 

“So, Anderson…how’s the talk show going?” One man asked.

“Well, Frank, it’s going as well as can be expected. Still building a fan base and all that.” Anderson smiled his thanks to the man ladling his soup, a petite brunette with dark green eyes. The man looked Anderson over, gave him a sly grin, and got back to work.

The man snorted. “I doubt you have to work very hard to develop a fan base. Everyone loves you.”

“Not everyone,” Anderson said, and tried to smile. “I’m sure there are some haters out there who would love to take me out.”

“Everyone would love to take YOU out, Anderson,” cooed the B-list actress, and everyone laughed.

Anderson watched Lance thank the waiter for his soup, and grimaced slightly as the waiter gave HIM the once-over as well. Cal didn’t seem to mind, though; he was busy talking to the woman on his other side. “Thank you, Deborah, but I’m not so sure about that, either.” He turned to the woman on his right. “Erica, did I hear that you won an award last week?”

“Yes, I did,” the woman said. “Thanks for mentioning it. I was shocked, I tell you.”

Anderson dutifully ate and feigned interest in the conversation, looking around the table at the people that he couldn’t quite count as friends, but were more than acquaintances. His eyes kept wandering to Lance Bass, who seemed to be having a nice time talking to the man at the other end of the table. When Lance’s green eyes slid up to the table to find Anderson, he suddenly blushed and looked down at his food.

“So, Lance, is it?” The woman across the table from Lance, the wife of a scientific journalist, put her fork and knife down. 

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied politely.

“I recognize everyone here but you.”

“Oh, I’m just a friend of Cal’s. I was already in town, and he asked me to come along so he wouldn’t feel like the odd man out,” Lance said with a smile.

“Yes, that would be me,” Anderson said, and the others laughed.

“What exactly do you do, Lance?” The woman persisted. Anderson frowned. He had never liked the woman much, but did like her husband, so he put up with her.

“Well…”

“He has a radio show,” Cal interrupted. “On Sirius…like a talk show?”

“I can answer for myself, Cal,” Lance said, frowning. He smiled at the woman again. “But he’s right. I do have a radio show.”

“So, you’re a journalist, then.”

“No, ma’am. I’m actually, well, I used to be a performer. Singing, dancing, you know.”

“Oh,” the woman said, wrinkling her nose. Cal opened his mouth and Lance placed a hand on his wrist, slightly shaking his head.

“Well, we’ll go back into the living room and have coffee and dessert,” Anderson said, standing. “I hope you’re all hungry for some excellent tiramisu.”

He went in to speak to the kitchen, and when he returned to the living room, everyone was spread out into small pairs and groups. Lance and Cal were standing in a corner, having a very heated discussion. Lance frowned and shook his head, while Cal waved his hands around a bit. Anderson sighed and poured himself a cup of coffee. THAT part of a relationship he did not miss.

 

Lance finally said, “Look, Cal, I appreciate you wanting to stick up for me, but it’s not necessary. I’m used to being the butt of the joke. It’s been happening to me since I was twelve.”

“But that snotty-assed bitch had no right to treat you that way!”

“Cal, it’s fine. I’d rather her hate me for my past work than hate me for my sexual orientation,” Lance patted Cal on the shoulder. “Get some dessert.” 

Cal frowned and watched Lance walk away. 

 

Anderson watched Lance pour himself some coffee and step out onto the balcony. He approached Cal, who was still standing alone. “Everything all right?”

“Yes.” Cal sighed. “He just has a thicker skin than I do. I would have let that woman have it.” Cal winced. “Sorry, Anderson. She’s your friend and your guest.”

“She’s my guest. She’s NOT my friend. Her husband is my friend.” Anderson smiled apologetically. “There are certain people who have definitely ideas as to what constitutes entertainment, journalism, and a “real” book. I’ve been trying to straddle both sides of it, the culture and the entertainment, and it’s not easy.”

“Lance is more than just an ex-boyband member,” Cal said. “People have a hard time seeing that, even after all these years.”

“You two are good together,” Anderson said. “The way you stuck up for him…”

Cal slowly smiled, watching Anderson watch Lance. “We’re not together. Not like that. We’re friends. And we came here in a cab.”

Anderson gave Cal a confused look as the younger man walked away.

 

Lance shivered a bit as he stepped onto the balcony, but he welcomed the cool autumn air. He wrapped his hands around his cup, enjoying the smooth porcelain against his palms. He had to smile, thinking of how Cal had jumped to his defense like a little guard dog. He was very used to the negativity surrounding his history with NSYNC. It didn’t make it easy, though, and he couldn’t bear to look at Anderson and see what his host thought about the whole thing. Not that Anderson probably cared, but for some reason, his opinion mattered to Lance.

“Aren’t you cold?”

Lance almost dropped his cup at Anderson’s voice behind him. “No. I mean, it’s chilly, but I’m okay.” He held up his cup. “This is helping.”

“Good.” Anderson looked out over the city. “I’m sorry about Lauren. She’s a bit of a bitch.”

Lance snorted and then finally laughed. “Well, since you’re the host and YOU said it, I can agree.”

“I think it’s interesting that you used to sing and dance for a living. I can’t do either to save my life, and I REFUSE to do them in public.” Anderson shook his head.

“Well, I think your other talents probably far outweigh your lack of singing and dancing skills,” Lance told him. Anderson nodded his head in thanks, and Lance blushed, feeling like he was babbling. He turned to look out over the city. “You have a beautiful view.”

“I know. It’s one of the perks of living in a place like this,” Anderson said with a sigh. “Sometimes I feel I don’t enjoy it enough.”

“You can really see the stars from here…you’re up so high.” Lance looked up at the sky.

“And this is something where you have far more expertise than I,” Anderson said. “They haven’t asked me to go up in a shuttle yet.”

“No one’s asked me, either,” Lance said, frowning.

“I’m sorry.” Anderson gently touched his arm.

“It’s okay. It’s been years, and usually I’m over it…but sometimes it still bites at me.” Lance shrugged and looked back up. “But you’re right…I know more than most people my age should about space.”

“Well…” Anderson paused and Lance looked at him. “I should go mingle, but I’d like to hear about your training. Would…would you like to stay for a bit after everyone leaves?”

Lance felt his heart start double-dribbling in his chest. Was Anderson Cooper…hitting on him? Or was he just interested, like for research or something. “Um, sure, if you want. I’m pretty sure Cal wouldn’t mind going home on his own.”

“Okay.” A bright smile crossed Anderson’s face. “I’ll talk to you later, then.” He went back inside and Lance clutched at the balcony railing, knees shaking.


	3. Chapter 3

Three

 

“So glad you could come. Thanks again.” Anderson shook the last man’s hand and kissed the last woman’s cheek. He purposefully ignored Lance Bass, who was standing by a wall, deep in conversation with Cal. Anderson headed for the kitchen. “Marlene, thanks again. Another triumph.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Mr. Cooper.” The catering staff was doing a last wipe-down of the kitchen. “We should be out of here in about fifteen minutes.”

“That’s fine. Have a good night, everyone.” Anderson left the kitchen and quickly went down the hall to his bedroom. He closed the door and leaned against it, taking a few deep breaths. 

This was ridiculous. He was actually planning on attempting to seduce someone. He didn’t go around seducing young men. He interviewed presidents, for God’s sake. Anderson let his head thump back against the wall. Anderson had quickly done some research on his phone, and Lance definitely WAS young. Twelve years younger than Anderson, to be exact. Lance was accomplished, though. He might not have graduated from Yale, but he had traveled the world, and was involved in a lot of causes. But other than being a drop-dead gorgeous man with beautiful eyes and a nice smile, he was not Anderson’s normal type.

Anderson opened his eyes and stared across the bedroom. He wasn’t looking to move Lance in…he was just looking to have a good time. And while picking up virtual strangers at a dinner party wasn’t his normal modus operandi, he could do it. After looking around the bedroom to make sure nothing strange was laying around, he took another deep breath and went out of the room.

When he returned to the living room, Lance was back out on the balcony, and Cal was nowhere to be seen. Anderson went to his private liquor cabinet and poured two glasses of wine. He went out onto the balcony, shivering a bit. “I didn’t mean you needed to come out here and freeze waiting for me,” Anderson said.

“I’m fine. I was feeling a little warm.” Lance put a hand to his face. “I’m sure my cheeks are red.”

“This will keep you warm.” Anderson handed Lance the wine glass. “I hope Cal wasn’t angry about going home alone.”

“He probably would have gone home alone anyway,” Lance said. “We’re…not official, or anything like that. We enjoy spending time together.”

“I see.” Anderson nodded. 

Lance sipped at the wine. “This is good.”

“I love it. I usually prefer beer, but I found this little winery in California last year, and I buy cases of the stuff.”

“I don’t see you as someone who drinks beer,” Lance said, amused. He leaned against the railing. “Shoes off, feet on the coffee table, remote in hand.”

“That’s EXACTLY who I am,” Anderson said. “Why wouldn’t you think so?”

“Well…” Lance thought for a moment. “Your main job is working for CNN. You cover war zones and disasters. Your mother is Gloria Vanderbilt.”

“And?”

“And…I’m completely judging you like that woman judged me. I’m sorry.” Lance took a big gulp of wine. “I guess I’m nervous.”

“Really?” For some reason this pleased Anderson. “Why?”

“Because I’m not sure why I’m here. I’m thinking you probably don’t care about the stars or outer space.” Lance put his wine glass down on a nearby table and studied Anderson.

“I DO care. I find it very interesting,” Anderson promised. He set down his own glass. “But I find you even more interesting, and it was the best thing I could think of to keep you here. I’m not very good at this.” Anderson rubbed at the back of his neck. 

Lance actually looked relieved, and Anderson relaxed a bit. “Not very good at what?”

“Well…I hate to use the word, but…”

“Mr. Cooper, you’re trying to seduce me…aren’t you?” Lance asked, raising an eyebrow. Anderson burst out laughing.

“God, please stop. You make me sound so ancient.”

“You’re not ancient.” Lance stepped closer, and even in the dim light from the living room, Anderson could see the beautiful green eyes. 

“Thank you.” Anderson’s hands reached up to gently cup the sides of Lance’s neck, and Lance’s lips were warm and eager as they met Anderson’s. They were about the same height, and Anderson liked the way their bodies fit together. 

When they came up for breath, Lance’s hand was in Anderson’s hair, and Anderson was holding Lance by the waist. “Well,” Lance said breathlessly. “I didn’t expect THAT.”

“I didn’t either,” Anderson admitted. He shivered. “Let’s go inside.” They picked up their glasses and he led the way into the living room. After shutting the doors to the balcony, Anderson turned to look at Lance. “Do…are you staying tonight?” Lance bit his bottom lip briefly, then nodded. “Good.” He took a sip of wine, then said, “The bedroom’s down this way.”

 

Lance stared at Anderson as he took another sip of wine, put his glass down, and headed out of the living room. For the briefest of instants, Lance couldn’t move. He was frozen in place, wondering what in the world was going on. Anderson was one of the most well known people on television. He’d only recently come out, and Lance knew he’d had a long-time boyfriend up until recently. What did he want with Lance? Lance took a deep breath and followed Anderson. He could do this. He was the king of one-night stands, and if that’s what Anderson wanted, that was fine with him. 

Anderson turned on the light as they entered his bedroom, a huge room decorated in earthy browns and greens. “This is nice,” Lance said lamely, wondering why he suddenly felt like a teenager with his first boyfriend.

“Thanks. A decorator did most everything else, but this room is all me. I like sleeping in a place that feels warm and close, you know?” Anderson smiled at Lance as he toed off his shoes.

“I get it,” Lance said, nodding. He kicked off his own shoes as Anderson started to unbutton his shirt. “Wait…” Lance walked over. “Allow me.” He quickly undid Anderson’s buttons without looking at him. As his hands slid up Anderson’s chest, he finally looked Anderson in the eye. His hands slid over Anderson’s shoulders, slipping the shirt down his arms. “Wow,” Lance whispered. “You should host your show like this.”

Anderson grinned, his hands fumbling for Lance’s buttons. “I may get a whole new demographic.”

“Never a bad thing.” Lance pressed his lips to Anderson’s bare shoulder and slowly slid up towards his neck. He heard Anderson suck in a breath as Lance’s teeth found the tender spot where Anderson’s neck met his shoulder. “You like biting…me, too. But I promise not to leave a mark.” Lance’s fingers found Anderson’s nipples, flicking them gently until they hardened.

Anderson groaned in Lance’s ear, his hands shoving at Lance’s shirt. He fisted a hand in Lance’s hair, pulling him up for a brutal kiss. “Are you this tan all over?”

“You’ll have to find out for yourself,” Lance said, and he stepped back, a saucy smile on his face. He pulled off his socks, and then undid his belt, letting his pants slide to the floor. He stood in a pair of pine green boxer briefs, arching an eyebrow as he slowly palmed himself through the fabric. 

Anderson arched his own eyebrow, chuckling. He left Lance standing alone as he turned off the main light and turned on a small lamp in the corner. The room was plunged into semi-darkness, the lamp giving just enough light for them to see each other. “Maybe I’m not the one doing the seducing after all.”

“You seduced me in here,” Lance pointed out. “After that, I figured I’d try to take charge a bit.”

“Ah.” Anderson stepped out of his own pants, making short work of his socks as well. “You like to take charge, huh?” 

“Sometimes.” Lance walked over and took Anderson’s hands, placing them on his waist. Lance couldn’t help but sigh as Anderson hooked his fingers in the waistband of the boxer briefs and slid them down. “I lived in the shadow of other people for a lot of years…and then I finally grew up and realized it was okay to take what I wanted. Or at least give an opinion.”

Anderson stepped back to study Lance, his hands sliding down to caress the strong hips. “And your opinion right now?”

“I want you naked, on that bed. I want to suck your dick. And then I want to fuck you.” Lance shoved at Anderson’s underwear. “Thoughts?”

“I believe I share your opinion,” Anderson whispered, hissing as their naked bodies came into first contact. “However, I need to amend this a bit.” He gave Lance a gentle shove until he sat down on the bed. “I get to suck you, first.”

Lance felt like he was having an out of body experience as he watched Anderson fall to his knees, his large hands sliding up Lance’s thighs. “I can handle that,” Lance gasped as Anderson began to stroke his cock. “Completely…handle that…” Lance leaned back on his elbows so he could support himself but still watch Anderson. Anderson’s eyes fluttered shut as he first took Lance into his mouth, then they opened, shining blue as they watched Lance’s face. “Oh, God…” Lance groaned, unable to watch anymore. Anderson’s mouth and hands were obviously experienced, and Lance’s thighs actually began to shake as Anderson’s tongue flicked around the head of Lance’s cock. One of Lance’s hands reached down to fist in the bedspread as the other tried to gently pet through Anderson’s hair.

Anderson let go of Lance’s cock with an obscene slurp. “You don’t have to be gentle with me,” he told Lance, biting at the inside of Lance’s thigh. “Just because the hair is grey doesn’t mean I’m old.”

Lance growled and fisted his hand in the hair in question, moving Anderson’s head back. Anderson chuckled and began to suck Lance again. Lance thrust up a few times, pleased when Anderson grabbed his hips and held him in place. He was beginning to lose the hero worship and just enjoy the feeling of being with someone who knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what he wanted done to him. Lance finally sat up, bringing Anderson’s head away and kissing him. He licked at his lips, the familiar taste of his own pre-come salty in his mouth. “You need to stop, or I won’t get to do what I want,” Lance said. He reached down to stroke Anderson, watching the long cock in his hand. “You’re so gorgeous,” Lance whispered. By the time he got the words out, however, he was looking right in Anderson’s eyes, and he blushed a little. “Come up here,” he ordered, trying to get control of the situation. Anderson smiled and obeyed, moving to lay next to Lance on the bed. “No.” Lance squirmed up the bed until he was flat on his back. “Come here.”

“Good God,” Anderson said weakly before crawling up to straddle Lance’s shoulders. “Are you sure? I know not everyone…”

“Lots of vocal lessons…learn to relax your throat so you can sing better.” Lance grabbed Anderson’s hips, shimmying him up a bit. “Don’t worry.”

“I…won’t…” Anderson gasped, grasping at the headboard as his cock disappeared into Lance’s mouth. “God, Lance…” Anderson’s eyes fluttered closed as Lance slowly urged him on, moving him in a bit deeper each time. 

Lance moaned as Anderson slid in and out of his mouth, the hot smoothness of Anderson’s cock making his own cock throb. He looked up at Anderson, whose arms were taut as he clutched the headboard. Lance slid his hands around to Anderson’s backside, one finger sliding down to rub up and down the cleft of Anderson’s ass. Lance felt Anderson jump in his mouth, one of Anderson’s hands moving down to clutch at Lance’s hair. Lance could wait no longer, and gently pulled Anderson’s body away from him. “Enough of that.” Anderson scrambled down Lance’s body and Lance began insistently kissing him. Anderson wrapped himself around Lance, rubbing their cocks together as they kissed. “Want you…” Lance murmured against Anderson’s mouth, and he felt Anderson shudder.

 

Anderson knew that Lance was no teenager. He knew that Lance was a grown man who obviously had slept with a lot of people. But he was still shocked by the skill of Lance’s mouth, the way that Lance deep-throated him without a problem, and by the deep voice that reverberated against his skin. Anderson lightly trailed his fingernails down Lance’s back, enjoying the hiss that resulted. “You could beg for me,” Anderson suggested. Lance pulled back to look at him. “I know I’d love to hear you beg.”

Lance reached down to stroke both of their cocks. “Let me fuck you, Anderson…please.”

The voice was low and deep and went right to Anderson’s balls. Anderson yanked Lance’s head in for a rough kiss, then slowly crawled off of him. He went to the nightstand and got out lubricant and a condom. He tossed them onto the bed and knelt next to Lance. “So…how do you want me?”

“Hands and knees, I think.” Lance knelt as well, giving Anderson one more kiss.

Anderson slowly moved to his hands and knees, stretching his body as he went. Lance began to gently kiss his way down Anderson’s spine, slow laps of his tongue that made Anderson shiver from head to toe. He heard the cap of the lube, then felt a cold finger work its way inside. Anderson hissed and Lance paused. “It’s okay,” Anderson promised. “Been a little while.”

Lance moved next to Anderson as his fingers continued to work inside. “Don’t worry…I’ll take care of you…”

“No wonder you have a radio show,” Anderson gasped, unconsciously rocking back to meet Lance’s fingers. “That voice…”

“MY voice?” Lance asked innocently. His voice dropped amazingly lower as he said in Anderson’s ear, “I’ll take good care of you…gonna fuck you, Anderson. Is that what you want?”

All thoughts of age and one night stands and reputation went out of Anderson’s head. “God, yes, Lance, please.”

Lance moved behind Anderson, and he heard the condom wrapper tear. Lance draped himself over Anderson’s back and whispered, “Just relax…” Anderson tried to stay calm, but the welcome spark of pain made him tense a little. Lance slowly moved inside, allowing Anderson to accept him a bit at a time. When his body was flush against Anderson’s, Lance said, “Okay?”

“Mmm…yes.” Anderson allowed his head to fall onto the bed, his body getting reaccustomed to the feeling of being completely filled by someone else. “Go ahead…move…”

Lance’s grip on his hips was strong, and he began to slowly guide Anderson back to meet his thrusts. “You’re so tight…feel so good…” Lance tried to control himself, but all he wanted to do was thrust hard and fast, go in as deep as he could.

As Lance’s movements became easier and quicker, Anderson lifted his head, looking back at him. “Come on, Lance…I thought you were going to fuck me.”

Lance grinned, raising that eyebrow again. “If that’s what you want.” 

Lance gave a twisting thrust that almost moved Anderson forward on the bed. “Jesus,” he gasped, hands clenching at the bedspread. Lance quietly grunted as he moved, a deep sound that sent a tickle down Anderson’s spine. 

Lance’s hands scratched down Anderson’s back as he went in harder, then he reached around to touch Anderson. “I want you to come with me inside of you, Anderson,” Lance groaned. “I want to feel it.”

“Please…” Anderson begged shamelessly, Lance’s hand nasty and hard on his cock. “Please, Lance…”

“C’mon…” Lance made another evil twisting thrust and Anderson came, gasping for air as he pulsed hot and wet onto Lance’s fingers. “God yes, I feel it…God…” Lance thrust erratically and came, falling onto Anderson’s back.

Anderson held up as long as he could, then fell to the bed with an “oof.”

“Oh, sorry…” Lance carefully pulled away, then fell onto his back. 

Anderson lay face down on the bed, not even caring that he was directly in the wet spot. He heard Lance get up and throw the condom away, then fall back onto the bed. “God,” Anderson said weakly.

“You okay?” Anderson turned his head to see Lance looking at him with concerned green eyes. He reached out and brushed a hand over Anderson’s shoulder.

“Fantastic.” Anderson gave him a tired smile. “Been a long time since I had it that good.”

“It was good,” Lance agreed, and made a big show of patting himself on the back. Anderson rolled his eyes.

“Let me get us some water or something.” Anderson slowly stood up, stretching.

“For an old guy, you sure are in great shape,” Lance said approvingly, his eyes running over Anderson’s long frame. Anderson frowned. Was Lance serious? He thought he was that old? “I wasn’t sure you could keep up with me.” Lance could keep a straight face no longer, and finally started laughing.

Anderson decided to take it as the joke it seemed to be. “Well, boy, I was impressed with you as well…you know a lot for such a young whippersnapper.” Anderson heard Lance continue laughing as he went out for some water.

When Anderson returned with two bottles of water, Lance was under the covers. “I got a cloth from the bathroom and cleaned up a bit. I hope that’s okay.” Lance motioned to the bedspread, where he’d wiped at the wet spot. “And I hope this is okay.” Lance pointed to himself.

“Of course you can stay the night. Unless you don’t want to.” Anderson handed Lance the bottle of water, wondering why he cared if Lance stayed the night. It was a bit awkward, but at the same time, he didn’t mind the idea of him spending the night.

“Thank you. I mean, I’ll be doing the walk of shame tomorrow, but it’s always a little better when the sun’s up.” Lance nodded his thanks and took a deep swallow of water.

Anderson climbed into bed next to him. “Do you really feel that ashamed?”

Lance shrugged. “I’ve had my share of one-night stands. But it still doesn’t make you feel any better in the morning.”

“Right.”

Lance placed his bottle on the nightstand and turned to look at Anderson, leaning on one arm. “So, what are you working on right now?”

“The usual,” Anderson said with a sigh. “Three-sixty, the talk show…”

“The talk show seems…fluffy,” Lance said. “For lack of a better word.”

“I’ve seen enough death and destruction to last me a lifetime,” Anderson said. “And I know as long as I do my job, I will be seeing more. The TV show is a nice distraction.”

“Of course it is. Sorry.” Lance blushed and studied his hands.

“So…what about you?”

“Me? Oh, I have the radio show, you know.” Anderson stared at him blankly. “It’s called ‘Dirty Pop With Lance Bass.’ It’s just me and my friends on the radio, talking about pop culture. It’s on Sirius XM’s OutQ channel.”

“Sounds fun,” Anderson said, yawning. “God, sorry. I wasn’t yawning at you.”

“It’s okay,” Lance said with a smile. “It is getting late.”

“Mind if we turn in?” Anderson asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

“Of course not.” Lance snuggled under the covers as Anderson turned out the light.

 

Lance woke at six in the morning, just as the sun was starting to creep across the sky. He’d slept fitfully, continually waking up and wondering where he was. He yawned and stretched, looking over at the silver head on the pillow next to him. Lance smiled, feeling as if he had just come out of a dream. He couldn’t help but reach over and gently caress the smooth skin of Anderson’s back before pulling himself up to a sitting position.

“What is it?” Anderson sat up, immediately awake.

“Jesus!” Lance gasped. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” Anderson said, blushing slightly. “Years of waking up to bombs and mortar.”

“It’s okay,” Lance said. “I woke up, and, uh, I was gonna go.”

“Oh.” Anderson wiped a hand over his face. “Would you like some coffee or breakfast or something?”

“No. That’s fine. You can go back to sleep, then. Just gonna…” Lance waved in the direction of the bathroom.

“Right.” Anderson fell back onto his pillow and closed his eyes, politely giving Lance the opportunity to grab his clothes and hurry to the bathroom.

When he came out, the bed was empty. Lance slipped his shoes on and went out into the living room. Anderson was leaning by the door, clad only in a pair of blue plaid pajama pants. “You didn’t need to get up,” Lance said.

“Like I’d stay in bed and just let you leave without at least saying goodbye,” Anderson said. They looked at each other for a long moment. 

“Thank you for having me,” Lance said finally, and they both smiled.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for staying.” This time Anderson took the initiative, grabbing Lance by the shoulders and giving him a long tender kiss. “I’ll listen to your show.”

“I’ll watch yours.” Lance gave him one more shy smile, then left.

As Anderson closed the door behind him, Lance leaned against it, sighing.


End file.
